


Doom Days

by confundedgryffindor



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Duelling, Fighting, First War with Voldemort, M/M, cruciatus curse is used, do not fret, it's a lot, no one gets truly hurt and no one dies tho, there's a sweet ending okay
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-21
Updated: 2019-10-21
Packaged: 2020-12-27 18:44:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,730
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21123497
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/confundedgryffindor/pseuds/confundedgryffindor
Summary: When I watch the world burn, all I think about is youSirius is panting, heaving out a breath, then a curse, a breath, a jinx. Every spell burns at the tip of his wand, embers of orange shooting out no matter the colour of the spell. It always does that. Fire is his magic, anyway. The spell that comes the easiest, wordlessly and wandlessly. The most destructive spell, fit for a destructive being.





	Doom Days

**Author's Note:**

> I HAVENT POSTED A FIC ON AO3 IN SO LONG JESUS CHRIST 
> 
> okay hi i wrote this ansgty piece inspired by [doom days](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=IOX30CHr4JY) by bastille
> 
> betad/proofread by [nagemeikenu](https://nagemeikenu.tumblr.com/) and [rororoyourships](https://rororoyourships.tumblr.com/)
> 
> pls enjoy

_ When I watch the world burn, all I think about is you. _

A jet of red whirls past Sirius’ head, followed by green, white, red, blue, green,  _ green  _ sparks flying out from wands from all directions, past Sirius, past James and Lily and Peter, past Remus _ .  _ The wall behind them crumbles; glass and bricks and heavy pieces of metal fall to the ground, smashing the cobblestone ground in Diagon Alley. 

Sirius is panting, heaving out a breath, then a curse, a breath, a jinx. Every spell burns at the tip of his wand, embers of orange shooting out no matter the colour of the spell. It always does that. Fire is  _ his  _ magic, anyway. The spell that comes the easiest, wordlessly and wandlessly. The most destructive spell, fit for a destructive being. 

A loud, booming, “ _ Crucio! _ ” comes from opposite of Sirius, somewhere to his left. The spell is invisible, but if you stand close enough you can feel it—the prickling of pain ready to burst into white hot knives that lasts for a second or an hour, Sirius has never been able to tell. 

He feels the prickling, shooting right past his neck, and he winces and immediately turns to his left to see who it’s going to hit, but then Remus yells: “Eyes forward, you tit!” and when Sirius turns back to the tens of Death Eaters in front of him, he hears someone scream. He sees James duck away from beside him, hears him yell something and then the screaming stops and Sirius  _ knows  _ it hit Lily, but his eyes remain forward. Heaving out a breath, a curse, a breath, a hex, as white-hot fury boils inside of him, twisting his gut, churning in his chest. James is still yelling and so is Remus and Sirius can’t hear a word, only focus on the anger.

The Death Eaters are all wearing masks, the fucking  _ cowards,  _ and Sirius doesn’t know  _ who  _ his target is going to be, but he knows it’s going to be one of the closest as the fury, the never ending rage  _ boils  _ inside of him. His wand lands at someone taller than him, bulkier than him,  _ stupider  _ than him, more  _ cowardly  _ than him, and the word “ _ Crucio! _ ” rolls off his tongue so easily that it almost scares him, yet he has never meant something more in his entire life.  _ You go after my friends, I go after you. _

The orange embers shoot out of his wand, the invisible spell whirls through the air in a barely audible  _ hiss,  _ then ends up right in the Death Eater’s chest and Sirius sees how their knees buckle, hears the muffled scream from behind the mask and he feels how his anger seeps out through his hand, through his wand and  _ he has never meant anything more in his entire life.  _

Everything is just white-hot; anger, pain, passion,  _ love.  _ There are no dull aches in war, no simmering feelings of never told-before frustration or fleeting crushes, no, everything gets more intense, more important, more consuming when it can end the next day. The usual press of Remus’ lips against Sirius’—innocent Hogwarts kisses—have turned into chests against chests, pressing,  _ pressing  _ trying to bring each other closer,  _ closer  _ with open mouths and breathless noises and roaming hands because  _ it could end tomorrow  _ when the world is burning. Burning with Sirius’ embers and James’ compassion and Remus’ determination and Peter’s sneakiness; burning with hatred and supremacy, Dark magic and familiar cackles. White-hot fire like Sirius’ magic, burning, consuming, ruining what once was theirs.

The duelling doesn’t stop, doesn’t seem to even calm despite then having been at it for half an hour—maybe more, Sirius can’t tell—and the sparking jolts of red, white, blue, red, red, green, blue,  _ green _ whirls past towards Sirius, towards Peter and James and Lily, Frank and Alice and  _ Remus  _ and they deflect them as best they can with blue shields and red sparks and orange embers.

Somewhere, in the back of his mind, Sirius wonders what he’s even fighting for at this point, what the orange embers actually mean to him, to the Death Eaters, he wonders if this is doomsday, but then something in him, more powerful than his doubt says,  _ Remus. You’re fighting for Remus, for James, Peter and Lily.  _ He’s not fighting for  _ his _ life—that’s meaningless, it holds nothing to him—but he’s fighting for them. Their lives and future kids and jobs and  _ his life  _ with Remus. 

The world is burning, ending, and Sirius will keep it upright for them. His family.  _ His Remus.  _

Sirius sees the orange embers grow larger, emitting smoke from somewhere on the  _ other side  _ and he frowns because it’s not  _ his  _ fire, it’s someone else’s and it’s growing larger.

“Jesus fuck!” Remus yells and his booming voice goes right through Sirius’ head and brings him back to  _ now _ . “Shit, everyone leave!”

Sirius hears cracks of Apparition, sees James pick up an almost limp-looking Lily from the ground and running the other way, and he knows he should leave too but he can’t. 

“Sirius!” Remus yells, but Sirius keeps firing off spell after spell. “SIRIUS!”

“What!?” He’s too concentrated, too caught up in saving everyone even though he knows he can’t, only shoot sparks of blue and green and red mixed with orange embers towards the remaining Death Eaters.

“It’s fucking Fiendfyre, Sirius! We’ve got to go!”

Sirius doesn’t move. He can't move, he has to do  _ something. _

The orange flames grow larger, brighter, taking shapes of lions and snakes, shooting embers like Sirius' magic. It gets larger, closer,  _ closer,  _ and Sirius can't focus on anything but stopping it, saving everyone even though the flames are so close, so large, soaking him in sweat and ash and threatening to form blisters on his skin if he only gets a feet closer and—

There's a hand around his wrist, warm and steady and sweaty like his own and he’s being pulled away, squeezed through a tube of nothingness and then he and Remus are in their flat. Orange embers are still shooting out of his wand, Remus is still holding onto his wrist and they’re both panting, standing in the living room in front of their Merlin-awful brown sofa.

“What the fuck is wrong with you!?” Remus exclaims. He lets go of Sirius’ wrist, takes a step back and tugs at his hair. 

“I was trying to save people!”

“You can’t save people from Fiendfyre!”

“But I—“

“No!” Remus says, angrily, determined. “Stop thinking that the world is yours to save! You need to think about yourself!”

"But I want to help!" Sirius' voice is shaking, angry and weak at the same time. He's still sweating, panting and his nostrils smell like fire and ash and Dark magic, stinging and prickling.

"You can't help people when you're dead!" Remus snaps, and it feels like the crack of a whip through the air, how it gets loud and then suddenly so quiet. So quiet that Sirius can hear his own heartbeat, thundering against his ribcage, hear Remus' breaths and the rush of cars speeding past on the street below.

Sirius throws his wand down on the sofa and tries to think about what to say but his mind is blank. He can only hear their heartbeats, smell ash and smoke and feel the sweat trickling down his neck and forehead, clench his hands into fists by his sides to stop them from shaking.  _ You can’t help people when you’re dead. _

They stand in silence. Remus is still panting and glaring daggers and he looks so so angry, Sirius is stunned, listening to their beating hearts and the echo of  _ you can’t help people when you’re dead.  _

Then, when the eerie silence that’s not really silent at all, gets too much, Sirius says, “I’m sorry. I… I just–”

“Want to help,” Remus finishes for him. “I know. You’ve said”

“It’s not that I just want to help, though!” Sirius says, staring into Remus’ eyes, studying the hazel irises with the inhuman yellow circle around the pupil like he’s never going to see them again, then he looks over at the scar slashing over his eyebrow, the scar on his top lip that always feel so soft against Sirius’ lips. “It’s… I watch everything go down, you know? And I stop thinking about me and I just think about you and James and Lily and Pete, and I can’t stop. I don’t want to save  _ everyone,  _ I just want to make sure you’re all okay. I want to… I only want to save you.”

Remus stares at Sirius. His teeth catch his bottom lip and his eyebrows knit together and Sirius is sure he can see Remus’ eyes gloss over with tears and everything except the smell of smoke seems to just stop. 

“I don’t want to be here without you, though.” Remus’ voice is thick when he speaks, like he’s trying to speak past a lump in his throat, and Sirius stops breathing. “I know you don’t want to save yourself but I– I need you, Padfoot. I don’t want to survive something like Fiendfyre if I don’t know that you’ll come out with me.”

Sirius swallows hard and feels his eyes stinging with tears, and he can’t do anything but fling his arms around Remus and pull him as close as he physically can. Remus’ arms circle around Sirius’ waist, hugging back equally as tight and Sirius is sure they’re both crying as he mumbles a string of half coherent  _ I’m sorry’ _ s into Remus’ shoulder. 

There are no simmering thoughts of frustration and untold crushes, it’s full blown anger and love at the sametime, it’s hurried  _ I love you _ s and  _ I’m sorry _ s over and over. Sirius can still smell smoke and ash and Dark magic and  _ Remus  _ and he can barely breathe but when he does, he breathes in the smell of fire and cigarette smoke and sweat from Remus’ jumper. He’s sure that if he opens his eyes he’ll see lions and snakes rising up from Diagon Alley and part of him wants to rush back, but the rest of him is clinging to Remus,  _ Remus,  _ and he thinks that as long as Remus is here, Sirius won’t head back. 

_ When I watch the world burn, all I think about is you. _

**Author's Note:**

> THANK YOU FOR READING i hope you enjoyed  
feel free to check me out on [tumblr](https://confunded-gryffindor.tumblr.com/) even though i'm never active there anymore


End file.
